


Radio Pals

by Uniasus



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Kyle is a genius, Light Angst, Post-Season/Series 01, Rescue Missions, crushes none of these guys can identify yet but they'll get there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uniasus/pseuds/Uniasus
Summary: When Bow realizes the static on the radio is not static, but actually a transmission for him he gets excited. Then he realizes it's from Kyle and Adora goes "huh."





	Radio Pals

**Author's Note:**

> The long-awaited Kyle fic I've been teasing on [my tumblr](uniasus.tumblr.com). Enjoy guys. 
> 
> Man I'm on a roll this weekend, two fics??

Kyle doesn’t think too much about it. Because if he does, it all comes back to two thoughts. One, this is a bad idea. Two, he’s not really sure why he’s doing it.

But when he landed on that pile of fellow soldiers, all of them bruised and rising up an open elevator, the only thing any of them said was some variation of a groan. And then it was a scramble to get up, Kyle being pushed by first one body than another until he fell off the edge.

Three stories down, he landed on another lift. He rolled with it, he perfected falling long ago. When he looked up, no one looked down at him. In fact, everyone had already run out. No doubt to alert Shadow Weaver of the breakout.

It was probably that complete dismissal, followed on the heels of someone having a non-violent conversation with him, that has Kyle doing what he’s doing now.

Sneaking into a server room.

Kyle’s not dumb. He might be just good enough in training and on the field to escape disappearing, but he’s not dumb. The Horde just doesn’t know it, because they don’t care. And because they don’t care, the people in the Horde don’t notice anything about Kyle’s skills. Rogelio only knows his favorite past time is reading – he doesn’t know that Kyle is reading chemistry textbooks or explanations of physic calculations. Lonnie has no idea that Kyle knows more about the history of the Etherian’s kingdoms than most people. Catra doesn’t know… well, a lot of things about herself Kyle put together.

The thing is, Kyle’s weak. Not stupid. And he recently had a conversation with someone else who listened to him, who didn’t think he was dumb. Kyle doesn’t want to let that go.

He doesn’t train as much as his squad mates, doing deadlifts or laps, but he’s read a lot of books and remembered them. Stole looks at sheets of passwords and key codes.

Getting into the server room is easy. So is finding what he wants.

He’d known the prisoner’s name was Bow but Kyle knows little else so the size of his file is a little alarming. Then again, Bow’s known associates are, apparently, the Princess of Bright Moon and Adora / She-Ra.

A Master Archer, Bow has been seen on Rebellion missions for the past three years. He rarely misses a shot, his arrows are all custom tech, and it is assumed he builds them all himself.

Kyle blinks at that. Another guy, not overly strong, but who competes and ranks well because of what he can do with his brain. Kyle smiles at the thought. Bow is also, Kyle realizes going through the photos, is really fond of crop tops. He looks at those a little longer than he expected but shakes it off with a tiny bit of guilt. Thoughts for later, Kyle promises.

He wonders if Catra used to feel the same way, looking at Adora’s arms.

Well, she doesn’t anymore. Not that Kyle cares. But he does care that Bow is someone worth retrieving in Adora’s eyes. He’s a _good guy_ or at least a useful person for the Rebellion. Bow is _worth something_ and the fact he listened to Kyle makes him feel warm.

More thoughts for later. But it cements the idea that he needs to get a hold of Bow. Talk to him again. Because he has a feeling Bow wouldn’t just push him off of a body pile – he’d gently help Kyle up and ask if he was okay. He’d be, well, nice. And Kyle has too little nice things in life to let one walk away in a prison escape.

He dismisses Bow’s file and instead searches for what had brought him here tonight to begin with – knowing what the Horde knew about the Rebellion’s communication network.

As it turns out, not much. The Rebellion, most of the kingdoms actually, be they pro-Horde, anti-Horde, or neutral, don’t have a widespread communication system. They aren’t wired like the Horde is. Most don’t have computers, some aren’t fully connected to an electrical grid. And while the addition of Dryl to the Alliance might have jump-started the adoption of technology in a few kingdoms, the Alliance is too new for something to have happened.

So. What do they use instead?

Kyle scans through reports of captured couriers carrying old fashioned scrolls or letters. Usually spelled against bad weather and unwanted opening, as the Horde discovered, but nothing that sounds fast or technology dependent. Nothing Kyle could hack, which is a problem. He couldn’t exactly write a letter _Dear Bow, I’m the prison guard who brought you food. Thank for listening to me. Want to be friends?_ and ask for someone to sneak into Bright Moon and deliver it to the kingdom’s Master Archer.

Putting aside the difficulties of someone sneaking across the border and finding Bow, anyone Kyle approaches with his request would probably accuse Kyle of being a traitor or spy. And he isn’t! Kyle is 100% behind the Horde. He’s just…

He’s just lonely.

Has been since Adora left.

Not that they were friends, but Adora had made a point of being friendly. She talked to him, which meant the others talked to him. They worked as a team, pulling each other through because Adora saw teamwork as a strength and so the others adopted the same mindset.

Things are different now.

They were all upset at Adora’s desertion. How could she leave them? And then Catra dived into the deep end of the emotional pool, to come out power hungry and revenge driven. Lonnie went with her, falling back on friends outside the squad, to become stronger and faster. Trying to prove Adora had been holding her back. Rogelio had, well, he’d gotten very excited about the ocean on their first mission. He works a lot with the water division now. Kyle rarely sees him.

Adora left, the team fell apart, and Kyle is straight up lonely in a place full of people and sleeping in a dorm room with people he’s known as far back as his memory goes.

Getting a, a pen pal is the perfect solution. Never mind they’re on separate sides of a war. It hadn’t mattered a few hours ago, it still didn’t matter now.

Kyle flips back to Bow’s file, stares at the photos of him firing arrows. Bow really does have a nice wardrobe, showing off his abs like that.

He wants someone to talk to. Bow is it. Bow… probably has a radio. That’s something Kyle could work with. Figure out a way to use. He’d have to read a few more books, get his hands on a few pieces of equipment. But it’s a plan.

_I’m gonna talk to Bow!_ his inner self glees as he slips out of the server room. _I can’t wait._

* * *

“Boooow.”

Bow sighs at Glimmer’s, well there’s no other way to put it, whine.

“Gliiimmmmer.”

He really wants to work on his next batch of arrows. In peace.

“My radio is fritzing.”

To demonstrate, Glimmer presses the button on top. It starts playing music, but Bow can hear the soft crackle of static. He sighs and takes it from her hands. “You just need to turn the dial.”

“That doesn’t help.”

Indeed, as Bow twists the nob left and right, the static doesn’t go away. “Huh.”

He knows a little about electromagnetic waves. First One’s tech gives them off, which he’s studied, and magic sometimes behaves the same way. He knows how to isolate a particular wave, a trick that led them to the Sword of Protection, and he knows waves can cancel each other out, but he’s not sure what’s going on here. Other than the fact there’s some sort of interference.

On every channel.

It’s gotta be Glimmer’s radio.

So he takes it apart.

She gives a high pitched scream of horror, but doesn't try to stop him. The radio is in good hands, he’ll fix it. Check the connections, get rid of dust, tighten loose bits, and ta-da!

“Try it now,” he tells his friend.

Glimmer obliges, pressing the power button.

There’s still static.

Bow frowns at it, eager to take it apart again when there’s a knock on his door. It is, of all people, one of the castle’s guards. Sheepishly, she lifts her hands to show the radio between them. “The static is starting to drive us crazy,” she admits, “I was hoping you could fix it?”

Bow looks down at Glimmer’s radio in his hand. “I’m not sure it’s the radio. I think it’s the signal.”

“Is that something you can fix?”

“Let’s find out.”

* * *

Someone is modifying the signal, he realizes. They’re changing the radio station’s broadcast, why he can’t quite tell, until he maps the different radio stations on a digital receiver. They’re all modulated the same way, by a wave with the same amplitude and frequency regardless of which carrier wave it’s forced on. And that modulation signal, well.

The wavelength is one of two lengths in a repeating pattern, so he writes it down on his piece of paper, 1,2,1,1,2,1,1,1. Looking at the rhythm reminds him of something, but he’s not sure what until he changes the numbers. Not 1s and 2s. But 0s and 1s.

Binary.

The message?

_Hey Bow._

* * *

Bow bursts into the training field, where Glimmer is sipping water and watching Adora spar against two Bright Moon soldiers. 

“The radio is talking to me!” He holds his device above his head like a trophy, but all it earns him is an eyebrow raise from Glimmer. The spar doesn’t stop, but Adora quickly knocks both of her opponents to the ground. Glimmer pouts when she realizes she missed the move and glares at Bow.

“You always say tech is talking to you,” Glimmer says. “You talk to your arrows.”

“But this time I _really mean it._ Glimmer, the static everyone is hearing? It’s a message. For me.” He can’t help the way his voice squeaks at the end.

Someone is talking to him. Through the _radio._ It is both the best thing to have happened to him and the creepiest.

“What’s it say?” Adora leans on her sword next to Glimmer, staring at the radio. “It just sounds like music.”

“It’s the static-“

“The static?”

“The – “ Bow sighs. For growing up surrounded by technology, Adora doesn’t know much about it. Most people in Bright Moon don’t. He’s got to keep this simple.

“The little distortions in the music? They’re a message and it’s saying ‘Hey Bow’.”

“’Hey Bow’. Really?” Glimmer has an A+ disbelieving face on, but Adora’s staring at the radio on awe.

“We can use radios to send secret messages? We could talk to the princess is the other kingdoms without letting Hordak know!” Leave it to Adora to see the military advantages.

“Everyone would hear it, Adora,” Glimmer said, patting the other girl’s forearm. “Just like we all hear Bow’s.”

“But only he can understand it! That’s incredible!”

Bow smiles at his friend. He loves how enthusiastic Adora can be about something. It makes her appear ten and all Bow wants to do is show her the world.

“But who would want to say “hey” to you?” Glimmer asks.

“Hey!” Bow feels offended. “Lots of people want to talk to me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Glimmer huffs. “Who would talk to you through the radio? Why not just tell you in person?”

“Which is why I ran here to tell you,” Bow held out the radio towards her and shook it. “The radio is talking to me.”

Adora plucks it from his hands, turning it over and over. “Can you follow it? Find out who?”

“Maybe?” Bow looks at the radio. “It can be super far away, but the only way I could find out the direction would be to leave Bright Moon and see how the signal changes.”

“I’ll call Swift Wind!” Adora shoves the radio back at Bow and heads toward the stable.

Sighing, Bow watches her back. As adorable as Adora’s love of horses is, heights aren’t exactly his thing. Especially on a uniasus. There’s _nothing_ to keep him on Swift Wind’s back. How Adora does it with her arms flapping like a bird, Bow will never understand.

Glimmer watches Adora’s back, only turning to Bow once she’s out of sight. “This seems like a lot to go through to find out who is saying hi to you.”

“It so cool that someone figured out how to do it! But yeah, I want to know why. And who. They’ll probably be an awesome friend.” He can feel his eyes sparkle, but they dim when he notices Glimmer cross her arms and turn away. “Not as awesome as you, bestie. Nothing’s breaking up the Best Friend Squad.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

* * *

It takes the majority of the day, miles of flying, and clinging tightly to Adora’s back, but they finally have an understanding of where the modulating signal is coming from.

The Fright Zone.

“Are you sure?” Adora asks again, as Swift Wind hovers in the air a mile from the Fright Zone border.

“Positive,” Bow answers. “The static is biggest in the direction. The distortion is stronger here.”

“Maybe it’s coming from the other side of the Fright Zone?” Glimmer suggests.

“Maybe.” But Bow has never been there. Doesn’t know why someone there would know his name, let alone want to contact him. The Fright Zone makes the most sense.

“Could it be Entrapta?” Glimmer asks softly.

Bow frowns. Those flames had looked pretty intense. But if anyone could do it, she could.

“Can we ask?” Adora said. “Send a message back?”

Bow looks at the small devices in his lap, Glimmer’s radio and his digital readout screen.

“Yeah. Of course, I can.”

Adora turns on Swift Wind’s back to smile at him.

“We’ll rescue her, right?” Glimmer asks.

“Of course. No princess left behind.” Adora says it in such a stately manner Bow forgets she wasn’t raised to be a princess. Though he supposes being raised to be a Force Captain meant there were similar courses.

“Or friends,” Glimmers says, squeezing her arms around Bow.

“No one left behind,” Bow says.

Swift Wind turns around and takes them home to plan.

* * *

You don’t really have personal items in the Horde. You have assigned items – a shock stick, clothes in your size, the bunk you are supposed to sleep in – but things that actually belong to you are far and few in between.

Most of them are spoils of war.

Kyle doesn’t have many. His first foray in the field was a failure – a sinking boat and the Sea Gate restored. The second went better. He hadn’t been super thrilled in placing bombs and dragging unconscious people, but the chance to see the Kingdom of Snows had been worth it. It had been his first time seeing snow, the food had been incredible, and what the kingdom had carved from ice had been beautiful. He’d tried to take a miniature ice sculpture, but it had melted in the rover.

He took other things, a flower he keeps dry and crumbling in his pillowcase, a three-sapphire earring he picked up off the floor he keeps in his pocket. Both are reminders that the world outside is beautiful.

Kyle’s spoil collection may be small, but he has a large a stash of belongings he’s liberated from the Horde’s trash. Spare parts, broken machines, that sort of thing. He keeps them in a locked room three floors below the surface in an unused part of the tunnels. It’s so close to the power generators it’s always sweltering, but it means no one bothers him. He’s never once heard the door rattle while he was in his small workshop.

And it really is tiny, a converted supply closet, but it’s his and ever since Adora left he’s spent more and more time in it. He likes the heat and wonders if where he came from had a hot climate.

He keeps a radio and transmitter in the closet. The transmitter is always on, but the radio is off unless he’s using headphones. It wouldn’t do for someone to discover his room. His sanctuary. His little bit of safety.

Kyle manages to sneak to it at least once a day, to listen to the radio. There’s no answering message from Bow for a month, and it makes him sad. Did he get it wrong? Is the signal too weak? Did he incorrectly assume Bow knew binary code?

Or, as the static seems particularly bad today, did he accidentally turn the knob? Maybe...

He turns to the device next to the radio and switches it off. The static clears up, but remains. He knew Bow was smart enough to figure out the radio messages! Eager, he sets about decoding what Bow sent. It doesn’t take him a lot of time, Bow used a similar frequency as Kyle’s original message. When he has the answer in front of him, Kyle frowns.

_Is that you Entrapta?_

He sets about putting together a new transmission with his answer.

* * *

“Is it her?” Glimmer asks, shoving herself into the space between Bow and Adora.

“No,” Bow said. “It’s Kyle. He was my prison guard in the Fright Zone.”

“Wait.” Adora crosses her arms. “Skinny. Short. No muscles. Blonde and quiet. That Kyle?”

“Well, he talked a lot at me,” Bow said, “but yeah. He seemed lonely and I figured if I’d get him talking to me he’d tell me about where Glimmer was being kept. It worked.”

“Kyle knows technology?” Adora shakes her head. “I had no idea.”

“The Horde’s a place guided by strength and power,” Bow points out. “It’s understandable he wouldn’t talk about how smart he is.”

Adora purses her lips, and Bow turns his attention back to the device in his hands. He got the impression before that Kyle is lonely. A bit of an outcast in the Horde. This explains why, and the efforts Kyle had gone through to get in contact with him makes Bow feel a little guilty. He had been nice to Kyle solely to get information on Glimmer, not because he actually wants to be friends with Kyle. The other boy had been involved in his kidnapping and played a role in stealing Adora’s sword. Horde people aren’t nice people.

A bigger arrow of guilt pierces his heart and Bow looks up at Adora. She hasn’t sensed his thoughts, and Bow reminds himself not to fall into prejudiced thinking. Not all Horde soldiers are alike, and Kyle seems to stand out in more ways than one.

“So what does the message actually say?” Glimmer peers at the device in Bow’s hand, but she can’t read binary.

“It said _Who’s Entrapta? It’s Kyle. Hi, Bow.”_

_“_ Really?”

“Really.”

Glimmer stares at the device. “Are you going to answer back?”

Bow glances at Adora, who is squinting at the zeros and ones of the message. “Yeah, I think I will.”

* * *

_Hi Kyle. I didn’t expect you to know binary._

_I know a lot of things people don’t expect._

_What’s your favorite?_

_Hard to say. I know a lot. I just remember things._

_How’s the Horde treating you?_

_Same as always. No one likes me because I’m not strong and they don’t have a use for smart people._

_That’s awful. I’m glad in Bright Moon people know I’m smart._

* * *

Somewhere along the way, Bow realizes that Kyle is just Kyle. After dozens of messages being sent back and forth in radio transmissions, Bow might even call Kyle a friend. He’s a fellow nerd. They both enjoy technology and stars. Though Kyle rarely sees them, due to the smog covering the Fright Zone.

Like a younger Bow, Kyle is searching for a group to join. For people to see him and what he can do.

Years ago, Bow found Glimmer. And now, it seems, Kyle found Bow.

Kyle, he realizes, isn’t a scary hoard soldier at all. He’s just a teen who has never been to a party or seen a horse. He’s just like Adora was. And that raises some uncomfortable questions.

* * *

Bow could ask Kyle, or he could ask Adora and save the back and forth of radio transmissions. He finds her in the sparring yard, staring down a palace guard. They circle each other, strike, pull away, strike again. Adora moves differently from She-Ra. More precise, every moment a dance flowing from one step to another. She-Ra is pure power, hard blows and little in terms of grace. In She-Ra’s moves, Bow reads natural strength. In Adora’s, Bow sees hours and hours of practice.

It’s a close draw, Bow can’t tell who won the sparring match, but when it’s done Adora flops on the grass next to Bow. “Came to shoot the targets?”

“I actually wanted to ask you something.”

Adora turns her head to look at him. “About what?”

“About the Horde.”

Adora stills before slowly pushing herself up to her elbows. “What about the Horde?”

Her tone is neutral. Sometimes it’s sad, sometimes it’s fond, but she doesn’t usually speak of the Horde in the anger and bitterness a lot of those in Bright Moon use. Bow understands. And now, he thinks he understands better.

“Maybe not here?” Bow gestures to the various people around the training field. “It’s, kinda personal.”

He means he’s not sure how Adora will react to the questions. Or how those around will react to her answers. When Adora revealed she didn’t know what a birthday was, she’d gotten a lot of pitying looks.

“My room okay?”

“Yeah.” Bow stands then offers his hand to Adora. She takes it, and together they make their way back into the castle.

Once in Adora’s room, she sits on her bed while Bow paces. He wants to ask his questions, of course he does, but he’s a little worried about the answers.

“Where do Horde soldiers come from?”

“Older soldiers. Villages in the territory. Orphans. All over the place.” Adora shrugs, looking unconcerned.

Bow presses. “What about you? Who are your parents? What village are you from?”

“I’m one of the orphans,” Adora said. Like it’s not a big deal. “Shadow Weaver found me when I was young. I only have memories of the Horde.”

“And Catra?”

“What about Catra?”

“What’s her history? Is she an orphan too?”

“Yeah.”

“And the others in your squad?”

“Them too,” Adora said as she shifts awkwardly on the bed.

“Do any of you remember a time before the Horde?”

Adora looks away. “I never asked.”

Bow wants to ask other questions too. _You do know that many orphans is not normal, right? Unless the Horde makes them._

“What happens,” Bow said slowly, “to the people who don’t make it through the Horde’s training?”

Adora tilts her head, not understanding. “Everyone passes training. Look at Kyle.”

“I thought he was still training.”

“He’s been in the field. They don’t let trainees do that unless they’re good. Or part of a good squad,” Adora amends.

Bow nods. He knows a bit about Kyle now. He’s more of an egghead than Bow, and Kyle will probably not be a buff guy. Not if the physically demanding Horde training program hasn’t produced any biceps yet.

“How does the Horde make sure everyone passes training?” Bow askes.

Adora starts pacing. Doesn’t answer. Bow gives her time.

It’s been months now, that he’s watched Adora silently re-evaluate things. She's a smart girl, no interest in technology, but she thinks things through quickly and logically. She learned fairly quickly the Horde had lied to her, but how deep those lies go Bow wonders if she’s gotten to the bottom of. Adora doesn’t often talk the myths the Horde told her about princesses and the Rebellion, but Bow guesses the lies have shaped how Adora saw the Horde itself and her own person as well.

She’d dropped hints about Shadow Weaver’s parenting. And Glimmer had told Bow the sorceresses had the power of a crystal behind her. Shadow Weaver had been confident she could wipe Adora’s memory. Glimmer is convinced that ability had been used frequently.

The more Bow learns, from Adora, from Kyle, and the more he thinks about evil magic, his understanding of what the Horde is shifts.

“Everyone just passes training,” Adora repeats. “But Bow, my squad room had six bunk beds. I can only name five people.”

She hugs herself, looking small and lost. Bow instantly goes to her. “There could have been only five people in your squad. Bunk beds do come only in twos.”

Bow laughs and Adora tries to smile at him.

“We used to tell children’s tales, of what happened to those who didn’t pass,” Adora whispers, “but I never believed them because no one could name someone who hadn’t.”

They’re both smart. They can make connections.

Adora might have been in a squad that was always five. Or she might have been in a squad of six, and the sixth member failed training and Shadow Weaver made the whole squad forget.

The Horde, Bow thinks, doesn’t just eat childhoods. It eats children too.

* * *

It’s hard to communicate solely in radio interference waves, Kyle decides. Now that he’s talking to Bow all the time, who’s a wonderful guy Kyle can’t stop thinking about, he finds that he is actually a chatty guy.

Kyle walks through the hallways and things about how he’d describe the smell to Bow. He goes through training and wonders what type of exercises Bow does to keep his arms strong. Reads books, and wants to share his new knowledge with a friend who would understand. In the locker room, he tries on one of his training shirts he transformed into a crop top. Bow pulled it off much better.

The thing is, the more Kyle thinks about Bow, and their conversations, the more Kyle finds himself in his small storage space. Which is fine. Kyle’s happy there, listening to the static to see if it changes, composing messages, or just reading and tinkering. He’s _happiest_ there. Especially as training is starting to get really, really hard.

He’s starting to fall behind in team training. He’s not putting in the time in the weight room he would have, choosing instead to talk to Bow. Adora is not around to encourage him. Rogelio is not around to spot him. Lonnie doesn’t care. Nor does Catra. The last simulation, a squad mate had shot Kyle to make it easier for the group. They hadn’t wanted the extra trouble of turning it into an escort mission.

It all leads up to this. A face to face meeting with Scorpia.

Shadow Weaver used to deal with the cadets who were failing. What she did with them was an often speculated idea among the Horde, cadet or not. But Catra, it seemed, didn’t want to deal with that task. And so she had pushed it to Scorpia.

“You have to try harder, Kyle,” she tells him. Her pincher feels heavy over his shoulder, her stinger very close to his neck. “I know you’ve been in the field, but now is not the time to slack off. You have one month left of training. Don’t you want to be a Horde soldier?”

“Of course,” Kyle says. He looks at the floor while they walk the hallway. Of course, he wants to be a Horde soldier. There’s not a lot of options, in the Fright Zone. It’s solider or staff, not that he’s ever actually seen the later.

“Glad to hear. We’ll whip you back into shape. I understand, sometimes we just need that little bit of help. I’ll draw up a training plan, Octavia will make sure you follow it. How many push-ups in a row can you do?”

“Ten.”

“That’s something! In a month, you’ll be doing twenty!” Scorpia sounds so hopeful, so sure this will work, that part of her enthusiasm migrates to Kyle.

They stop, coming to the dorm room Kyle lives in.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning with a training regimen for you,” Scorpia promises.

“Thanks, Scorpia.”

“Anytime.” With a shoulder squeeze, she leaves Kyle staring at the dorm room.

Sighing, he steps in. It’s not his old dorm. The one he had lived in for years and years with his old squad. With Adora gone, Catra in different quarters, and Rogelio across the Zone in Navy barracks, he and Lonnie had been told to pack up and move to join a small squad of four. They had the two bunks to spare. Lonnie had claimed the top one, and Kyle had let her. He wouldn’t have won if they fought for it.

No one else was in the dorm, probably studying or running or polishing armor. He doesn’t want to be there either. He wants to be in a corner with a book, or in his small closet preemptively composing a reply to Bow. Or maybe lightly sparring with a patient friend, but, well, right now, the only person who fits that description is Bow.

He should... do something. Go back to his tech closet or scour the library or go run laps. He should really run laps, considering Scorpia had sought him out.

Kyle is, no doubt, failing training.

What that means in this new Shadow Weaver-less Horde, Kyle isn’t sure, but he likes to think he understands Catra pretty well. She values loyalty, a lot, and Kyle has been that. Mostly. He doesn’t think anyone knows he told Bow where to find the Princess of Bright Moon. Or that he’s been talking to him via radio. He’s been on missions with Catra, has somewhat held his own, and hasn’t pissed the commander off too badly. Just the normal annoyance.

But she had sent Scorpia to straighten him up.

If he failed, maybe Catra would assign him to one of the tech staff positions? Electrician, or plumber, or repairing skiffs. The pay would be awful, he’d eat the soldier’s leftovers, and sleep not in a bed but in a bag on the floor. But would it really be that bad?

He wasn’t sure.

Kyle stared at the metal above him.

Fail cadet training, get bumped down to staff. It made more sense than the rumor that had circulated months ago. About Shadow Weaver using failures to power the Black Garnet, feed a trapped monster, or be experiments for a spell. Or tossing them into the Whispering Woods with no supplies and no weapons, to be killed by wild beasts. Or in the Kingdom of Snows to freeze. Or anywhere really. Failures always died, but the horrifying manner of it varied.

The door opens to the dorm room and in walks Lonnie. She’s chatting with one of their new squad mates, a buff girl named Carly, laughing like they’ve been best friends forever. Not wanting to deal with them, Kyle turns over so his back faces the door.

Did Lonnie already know someone in this squad, is that why they had placed here? It is pretty lucky that this room had an extra set of bunk beds for them.

Kyle’s eyes catch on a scratch on the metal that circles the bedpost, the small bit of shielding on either side of the headboard. It isn’t deep, and as Kyle tilts his head back and forth he finds his ability to notice the scratch comes and goes. When he could see it, the scratch didn’t look to be a result of wear. He reaches out to touch it.

One single line, that when he followed up branched out to either side like a T. And, oddly enough, as he brushes his fingers over it the texture changes. The scratched area is a touch warmer, a bit more giving. Curious, Kyle turns his thumb to run the nail in the scratch.

It sinks deeper than he expected. It isn’t a shallow scratch at all, Kyle realizes. It’s a deep scratch, covered up and painted. A carved “T”.

“Hey, Lonnie?”

“What?” the black girl snaps.

“Can I borrow your knife?”

“Where’s yours?”

“My locker.”

“Ug, fine.” She doesn’t sound happy at all but hands it over. Blade first. Kyle gently takes it. When she sees him using it to pick at whatever material had covered the carving, Lonnie tries to snatch it out of his hand.

It doesn’t work, just sends the knife skirting across the metal with a squeal.

All three cadets in the room wince.

“You’ll dull my knife!” Lonnie screeches.

“Sorry.” Kyle lets go of the blade, sheepish.

“What are you even doing?”

Kyle turns over to see Carly peering into the space around Kyle’s head.

“There’s something caved here,” Kyle says, pointing to the now very visible “T”. “I want to see what it is.”

Carly frowns at the section of metal. Then she hands over, of all things, a screwdriver. Kyle blinks, then thanks her for it.

“I want to see too.” Carly climbs into Kyle’s bed, sitting on her knees behind Kyle’s back. Lonnie sits at Kyle’s knees, stretching her neck to watch Kyle chip away at the hard plaster. Bit by bit, more of the carving appears, things he hadn’t noticed before because the other letters are more shallow. Eventually, he uncovers two words: “Tim’s Bed”.

Kyle looks at Carly. “Who’s Tim?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know anyone named Tim. That’s probably really old, like, twenty years. Horde stuff is built to last.”

“Probably,” Kyle whispers. He hands back the screwdriver and begins to clean up the shavings. Carly pulls back, curiosity satisfied, but Lonnie keeps staring at the revealed carving and the flecks of putty and paint that scattered on Kyle’s sheets.

He wonders if she sees what he does. Old plaster dries up, it cracks, and the paint on it would do the same eventually. Over twenty years, there should have either been kids that picked at it the spot to reveal the carving or several layers of paint that kept hidden.

When Kyle catches her eyes, he realizes that yes, she made the same connection.

Lonnie grabs Kyle’s hand and pulls him out from the bunk. “I’ll spot you at the gym.”

Kyle opens and closes his mouth, but nothing comes out. He didn’t think Lonnie cared.

“Bye, Carly!” Lonnie calls out.

“See ya,” Carly says to their backs.

They don’t actually go to the gym. Kyle knows Lonnie doesn’t care that much about his performance and status, despite years of working together. Years of training, mock missions, and mess hall meals. Adora leaving showed the truth – they weren’t bound as a unit. They could do their separate things. And so they had.

But, they had been brought together for a reason. Squads were built to complement each other. To succeed. Filled with members who could push one another higher. They were small groups of peers, part friends part rivals, all with the drive to help the Horde achieve its goal.

And their old squad? It had been filled with the best. The best warriors, the best strategists, the best minds. Kyle might have all the arm strength of a piece of spaghetti, but he had used his brains to help them dismantle and destroy tech. To make them pause and think. The Horde had probably thought that over time, Kyle’s biceps would match his brain, but the opposite happened. Instead of Kyle beefing up, Adora, Catra, and Lonnie all grew in strategy, manipulation, and reading opponents.

Together, they were supposed to have been the Horde’s new #1 squad. And while it hadn’t happened, Kyle knows they each scored high in intelligence tests.

Lonnie may not have Kyle’s photographic memory and a head for tech, but she isn’t stupid and she has a knack for reading people.

She doesn’t bring him to the gym. She brings him to their old dorm room.

“Lonnie- “

“I want to see Adora’s bed.” She marches into the room. It had been given to a new batch of cadets, round-faced with youth. None of them could be more than eight years old and all six of them give Kyle and Lonnie looks of wide-eyed surprise.

Squads of the same rank rarely mixed, let alone those of at different levels.

There are two boys lying on their stomachs and arm wrestling on Adora’s old bunk. Lonnie growls at them and they scamper. Kyle notices that the crude drawing of Adora and Catra that used to be on the small wall is gone, but when Lonnie starts picking at the area with her knife out falls painted-over plaster.

It looks similar to the debris from Kyle’s bed and he knows this had been covered recently. They had only moved out a few weeks ago.

If he had money, Kyle would guess Tim’s carving had been covered recently too. No more than two or three years. Others in his senior cadet squad should have remembered him. Him and, Kyle suspected, whoever used to live in Lonnie’s new bunk.

_Be careful of Shadow Weaver. She can make the shadows swallow people, never to be seen again._

It is rumor passed along the junior cadets, those just starting training, to scare them. As Kyle got older, he had real, concrete reasons to be scared of Shadow Weaver. Instead of making cadets “never seen again”, the stories said she orchestrated gruesome deaths. Kyle believed most of them. He’d felt the touch of her shadows. 

This. This terrified him.

Carly _should_ know Tim. Hell, maybe Lonnie should know him since she knew Carly for a while. He hadn’t just disappeared, he’d been erased. Kyle thought of all the dorms having six bunk beds, the lockers in groups of six, the mess hall benches designed to fit twelve. Counted all the five-person squads, including his old one, and wondered – _who have I forgotten?_

If Shadow Weaver had not wanted to get Adora back so desperately, if she hadn’t turned into She-Ra and knowing Adora’s weaknesses was a Horde advantage, would Shadow Weaver have wiped Adora from Kyle’s head?

Memories of Adora listening to him describe the places he read about, or the girl encouraging him around the track filled his head. Doing pushups side-by-side, asking him for help on how to memorize things. Their hugs as children, their high-fives as teens. A lifetime of growing and training, the only constant family they’d ever known. Would Shadow Weaver have taken away his memories of one of the people who shaped his life? Would he have changed as a result?

Had she already done so?

Lonnie grabs his wrist and drags him out of the dorm room.

“Where… where are we going?” Kyle asks. He bites his tongue about complaining about Lonnie’s tight grip.

“The gym.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you’re failing, Kyle. You need help.”

Lonnie hadn’t helped him in the past. Rogelio did. Adora did. Neither of them are here now.

“You don’t have to,” Kyle says, “Catra wouldn’t… Catra wouldn’t make me disappear.”

“You don’t know that,” Lonnie hisses. “Besides, I’m not like Adora. I’m not going to completely abandon a squad mate.”

Kyle goes quiet, jogging three steps to walk alongside Lonnie. She lets go of him, and together they march towards the weight room. Kyle doesn’t say thank you; Lonnie wouldn’t want to hear it.

* * *

Bow frowns as he looks at Kyle’s most recent message. They’d talk a lot, mostly about their hobbies and current projects, though Bow has asked questions about the Horde. Simple things, like daily routines. What people do for fun. How things operate.

He is generally curious and he feels like Kyle would be more likely to answer some of his questions than Adora.

He also doesn’t want to ask his friend to walk through the memories of everything that happened in the Fright Zone. Not that they’re bad memories, but sometimes Adora would look at something, like a child playing Princess and Monsters with a parent and her face would contort into a range of emotions before going blank.

Bow and Glimmer have guessed why, derived from snatches of conversations. Children in the Horde didn’t play with adults. They rarely played, period. Training is their lives; battle simulations replaced make-believe, weapons training replaced classes, self-improvement became hobbies.

Whether Adora looks at the children in Bright Moon and things “this is wrong” or “I was raised wrong”, Bow isn’t sure he wants to know.

But he asks Kyle those questions. Kyle likes to talk, Bow gets the feeling few listen to him. Kyle tells him about training procedures and his opinion about every type. And Kyle, Kyle doesn’t mind the Horde life. It’s all he knows.

Sometimes that makes Bow sad. Sometimes Bow is happy that Kyle doesn’t hate his life. And when Kyle expresses wonder at some of the Bright Moon tales, Bow is very much reminded of Adora’s first party.

Kyle likes to learn. He doesn’t belong in the Horde, but he has no other option and never expresses a desire to leave it.

So this most recent message makes Bow ponder.

_Hey Bow!_ _Hope you’re well. Graduation is coming up, soon I’ll be an actual Horde solider! Though, I’m not sure I want to be in the Horde Army anymore._

Originally, Bow had used Kyle’s neediness to save Glimmer. And he wouldn’t lie, talking to Kyle these past two months had originally been another way to get information. But between comparing notes on projects, and realizing that in another life Kyle could be just as brilliant as Entrapta, Bow had started to think of Kyle as a pen pal. Not just a Horde soldier being nice, but someone he genuinely connected with.

Not of the first time, Bow wonders what he and Kyle could build if they worked on a project together.

He feels as if he’s reaching out to a timid crow instead of typing a message to a friend a hundred miles away. _What do you want to do instead?_

He waits a bit. Their communication isn’t always instantons, requiring them each to modify the radio waves. Nor is Kyle always waiting for a reply, he’s mentioned a few times he has to sneak away to talk to Bow.

Thankfully, Kyle’s answer is swift.

_I don’t know. But fighting is not for me._

_Never thought it was._

_Haha. Yeah, I’m pretty scrawny._

_Not what I mean,_ Bow types back. _I can just tell you’re happy when you talk about something you’re building or read in a book. Not everyone likes to fight. There are other options._

_Not here. The best options are fighting. And if you fail at that… let’s just say I need to stop failing. But it’s hard, even with Lonnie helping. I have to pass training and fight, or fail and…_

Bow waits for the second part of the message, but it doesn’t come. And he realizes that Kyle, like Adora, doesn’t truly know what happens to the kids who failed.

_What happens if you fail, Kyle?_ Bow types back, fingers stiff.

Bow waits for a response for thirty minutes but doesn’t get one. Kyle has shut off his radio, most likely. He never could talk for long, and no doubt now he is increasing his time training.

He doesn’t want to go to Adora, ask her what she thinks might happen to the kids who fail. Wonder about a teammate she may or may not remember. But if Bow doesn’t, it’s possible she’ll lose another one.

Despite all Catra has done to Adora, Bow knows that friendship hasn’t ended completely. She probably doesn’t hate Kyle either.

Only one way to tell.

* * *

“Okay,” Bow says, pacing the length of Adora’s room. He’d called Glimmer and Adora for a meeting of the Best Friends Squad. This conversation would put Adora on edge, and Glimmer could calm her down more. “This is going to sound crazy, but I want to propose a mission.”

Glimmer and Adora look at each other before turning their attention back to Bow.

“Okay,” Adora shrugs.

“You’re not going to like it,” Bow tugs nervously at his own fingers.

Glimmer stands and walks over to him, placing her hands on his. “I still want to hear it.”

Taking a big breath, Bow blurts out his idea. “I want to rescue Kyle from the Horde. Soon.”

Glimmer frowns at him. “I know you and him have been talking through the radio, but-”

“But do you even know if he wants to leave?” Adora bluntly asks. “I didn’t, until I saw what they did. And Kyle, Kyle actually _did_ some things.”

“I know, I know.” Bow pulls out of Glimmer’s hands and steps aside. He wants to look at Adora for this. “But I think he just went along, instead of actually wanting to kidnap me. Or fighting when the Horde showed up here. I mean, it’s _Kyle._ ”

Adora frowns at him, then her shoulders sag. “I know. We used to be, used to be friends. That still doesn’t mean he wants to leave the Horde.”

“Adora, I think he’s failing.”

Adora straightens and goes pale.

“Failing? Failing what?” Glimmer looks back and forth between the two of them.

“Training,” Bow answered.

“One less Horde soldier to worry about it.”

Bow winces and Adora, Adora _flinches._ Glimmer’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not getting something. What’s bad about one soldier failing training?”

“We don’t fail training, Glimmer.”

“Are you sure about that, Adora?” Bow asks.

She looks up at him. Bow remembered the conversation they had before. Had Adora’s squad once had a sixth member she didn’t recall? Or had it only been five from the start? All that had lingered in the air then had been fear and uncertainty. It comes back now.

“No,” Adora whispers.

She doesn’t say more and Bow takes that as a cue to explain to Glimmer.

“We...suspect...that when a cadet fails training, something happens to them. And then the memory of them is erased from everyone’s mind.”

Glimmer looks between Adora and Bow. It takes her a while, but eventually she understands. She’d seen Shadow Weaver try to wipe Adora’s mind of Bright Moon. Bow watches Glimmer swallow.

“The cadets at the Horde, they don’t have a choice but to be there. They have no other option. It’s fail or, or whatever. But we can change that,” Bow says, “Give those who want it a chance to leave the Horde _and_ be safe. Be what they want.”

Glimmer frowns. “Are we talking all Horde cadets or just Kyle?”

Bow blushes. He loves the idea of Kyle being here. Adora and Glimmer are amazing, but they are _girls_. And, well, they aren’t tinkers either. Adora and Glimmer both like punching things. Kyle and Bow? Not so much. He is desperate for a guy friend.

“Does it make a difference?” Adora asks. She’s taken off her red jacket and is fingering the cuff. It, like the rest of her daily wear, are parts of the Horde uniform. She’d been offered replacements several times, but never took them. Even after they had started to become thin and worn.

“Yes,” Glimmer forces a gust of air from her lungs. “Planning a mission to rescue one person or ten is very different.”

Bow snaps his head toward Glimmer. “So you’ll help me get Kyle out of there?”

Glimmer shakes a finger at him. “You’re my friend. And if you want to rescue Kyle, of course, I’ll help.” Her eyes flicker to Adora sitting on her bed, still fingering her jacket. “But if we, if we want to help cadets, I don’t know, escape the Horde, that’s a bigger thing. It’ll need a lot of planning.”

“Would you do it?” Adora asks.

“Do you want us to?” Bow asks.

“I don’t know,” Adora says. She sounds so small; there’s no indication at all that she could judo flip the pair of them in seconds.

“We can talk about it later,” Glimmer says softly. She catches Bow’s eyes and he nods. Such talk is not meant for now, and it would probably mean prying into Adora’s past in a way neither of them like. No one knew the Horde mind as well as Adora does, which while usually a blessing could also come back and bite them. “For now, let’s focus on Kyle and save his skinny butt.”

“Oh, thank you!” Bow swoops in to give Glimmer a hug. He lifts her up and circles her, happy that his friends support him.

With a poof, Glimmer teleports herself out of his arms and onto Adora’s bed. “Alright, alright. Jeez. He’s not allowed in Bright Moon until he’s apologized for kidnapping us though.”

“You still have to ask him if he wants to come here,” Adora points out.

“He will,” Bow says. “I know he will.”

* * *

When you communicate via binary messages encoded in radio waves, you tend to write short messages. So Kyle wasn’t entirely sure what Bow means by _Do you want to join me in Bright Moon?_

_To visit?_

_Leave the Horde. Come live here. You wouldn’t have to fight._

As soon as he decodes the message, Kyle shuts off his radio and transmitter. He doesn’t want anyone to know he had heard the message or deciphered it. It is treason to leave the Horde. You leave, you don't come back. Or if you do, it’s as a prisoner of war. 

Still reeling from the invite, from the sudden realization there might be another option, he doesn’t notice bumping into Lonnie on the way back to the dorm.

“Where have you been?” she asks, hands on hips.

“Running?” Kyle hates how his voice rose at the end.

Lonnie narrows her eyes at him. “Then we can go to the weight room.”

Kyle hangs his head. In the past two days, Lonnie has given Kyle extra help. They never talk about it, not out loud, but they each have their own fears about what would happen to Kyle if he failed. Their own thoughts about how Catra differs from Shadow Weaver and what might have to happen to the example cadet, the first one to fail under Catra’s leadership. Kyle.

Two days of extra work has made Kyle constantly hungry and sore all over. Lonnie is a tough love kinda teacher, forcing him to do things while she stands there glaring. Adora used to give him encouragement or make up stories. “Lift that barbell likes it’s a princess you’re about to throw!” “Run like there’s a princess behind you!”

He repeats Adora’s favorite praises in his head while Lonnie watches him do weighted squats. If Kyle left, could he see her again? Does he want to?

He never knew the full reason for why Adora left. But Kyle suspects it had something to do with the way his stomach shriveled up when Catra showed him the bombs Scorpia would place around the castle in the Kingdom of Snows.

Kyle knows what he is, what they all were. War babies. They were born into war and would die in war. He saw the orders given to select Force Captions, kill the adults and bring back the children. The Horde trained soldiers starting at age six because it reduces death rates and results in loyal fighters. He never, never expected his life could be any different.

Until Adora left, of her own free will.

Until Bow, trapped behind bars, showed him kindness.

Until Adora and a bunch of princesses did what he’d never expected them to do – show compassion and selfishness to rescue a friend behind enemy lines.

Until Bow answered his first radio transmission and they became pen pals. Until Bow sent _Do you want to join me in Bright Moon?_

He remembered the city-palace. Even surrounded by shriveled forests and viewed through the smog of Horde machinery, it had been a beautiful sight. Kyle could do without the purple-pink walls, but it had been clean and smooth. There’d been lots of windows and green spaces and a shallow pond. He’d never seen standing water before.

It had been a dream. A pretty place where people cared about each other and not just as a fighting partner. There’d been families peering from the windows, kids and old people and those in between. _Non-combatants._ And Bow’s messages had turned Bright Moon into a fairy tale.

Fairy tales aren’t supposed to exist. Like princesses, they hold a dark core.

But Kyle doesn’t see that group of princesses who came to rescue Glimmer and Bow as evil. They’d been like his own squad. Friends.

Except, well, no one from his squad had tried to infiltrate Bright Moon to bring back Adora. They fought, they kidnapped, stalked and manipulated.

Kyle hadn’t said no to any of his missions. Never spoke up when he saw Catra injure Adora at the Salinas Gate. Or Scorpia stung Glimmer. Or even the little things when Shadow Weaver hissed at Catra when they were younger. He’d never stood up for anything.

“Why are you stopping?”

Lonnie’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Kyle blinks at her. 

“You have 10 more squats to do.”

“Are we friends?” Kyle blurts out.

Lonnie huffs, turning her head to look away. “I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

“You never did before. It was always Adora or Rogelio.”

Lonnie doesn’t answer until Kyle does five more squats. “Well, they’re not here now. It’s just you and me.”

“Not Catra?”

“Not Catra.”

Kyle lets the weight pull him to the ground, sitting on the matt while the ten-pound kettlebell rests between his open knees.

“Do you want to be here?” Kyle asks.

“I can think of better things to do than help you train, so no.”

Kyle winces, but he knows she didn’t completely mean that. “I meant here, as in the Horde.”

“Better here than the Princess Rebellion,” Lonnie scoffs. “I know where I fit in here.”

“I don’t,” Kyle whispers.

He never really learned the “don’t show weaknesses” lesson everyone else did. It is probably why Rogelio used to hover, Catra would roll her eyes at him, Adora would train him, and Lonnie would ignore him.

“We’ll make you fit,” Lonnie snaps.

“Do you really think that will happen?” Kyle looks up at her.

Lonnie grins her jaw. Tightens her hands where they clutch her biceps. “Yes.”

She is lying, but Kyle doesn’t call that out. Friends or no, you always develop a loyalty to your squad. It’s why Adora leaving them behind hurt so much, and why Catra favors them with missions. Why Lonnie doesn’t want to see him fail and disappear.

Kyle looks at Lonnie standing above him, feeling small and fragile. He doesn’t fit here. Never will. His mind doesn’t work like the other cadets; it works like _Bow’s_. He wants to make things and create and have best friends. He doesn’t want to fight all the time, question the feelings of the people around him, and die an early death.

He sneaks back to his closet before bed and sends a reply to Bow. _Yes._

* * *

The night before senior cadet trials, Scorpia once again pulls Kyle aside. “How you feeling, little buddy? Good? I know you’ve been training hard.”

“Yeah… yeah.” Kyle says. “I’ll pass, I’m sure. Lonnie has been great.”

“Good to hear!” Scorpia pats him on the back hard enough he stumbles forward two steps. “Catra would have been so upset if she had to fail you.”

“Really?”

“Well, no.” Scorpia pauses, bringing a claw up to her mouth. “She hasn’t been paying a lot of attention to trainings lately, but she has been brainstorming what to do with the “losers” as she calls them. Some were quite creative.”

Kyle won’t be here to take the trials tomorrow, not if things go according to plan, but he has to ask. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know. Throwing them into lava. Abandoning them in the Whispering Woods. Doesn’t matter though, as you’re not going to fail!”

“Yeah, hehe. I’m not.” Kyle forces a chuckle out of his mouth.

“That’s the spirit. Make sure you get eight hours of sleep tonight!” Scorpia waves over her shoulder as she walks away.

Kyle waves back before continuing on his way to the Horde’s records room. Bow, and through him the rest of Bright Moon Kyle was sure, had made no demands of him other than be there, alone, and ready to go. Still, it feels wrong to not bring something as a show of thanks. He hopes engineering plans work, he was a few memorized. He also wants to try his hand at building a few of the new robots. Everything the new engineer has designed promises to be a fun challenge. They are truly works of art and he could spend months with them.

Like all the times before, he has no problem getting in. He feels paranoid inserting a file stick into the main server and typing, certain someone would catch him stealing files. But no one questions him. No one wonders what he is doing or even notices him. He is Kyle, invisible nerd, and the skinny kid who’d been visiting for years.

It makes him feel better about his decision to leave, once again reminded of how different he is compared to the other cadets.

Once the file stick is full, he heads out and towards his small closest of devices. He’s spent hours here, listening to messages from Bow and sending his own. He’d been lucky no one found it. No one opened the door and wondered about the various devices and parts and tools laying around. Kyle knows he couldn’t have anyone stumbling into it after he’s gone either.

Over the past few days, he’s slowly removed the devices he squirreled away. His inventions and improved machines he snuck into various robot repair stations, the parts and tools he put back where he found them. All that is left in the small room are the radio, transmitter, and decoder he’d used to talk to Bow.

In an ideal world, he would take them with him. He loves those machines, loves the time he spent with them, but he can’t lug them through the Horde while he sneaks out to meet Bow, Glimmer, and Adora. They can’t be discovered either, they might move the needle on his file from MIA or deserter to traitor.

Kyle isn’t a traitor, not really, but he has rapidly realized the Horde isn’t for him. It makes him sad, it has been home for so long, but it isn’t a life for everyone. He wouldn’t join the Rebellion and fight alongside the princesses. Wouldn’t give Bright Moon data on Horde operations and missions. He just wants, well, he just wants to live life as he wants it. Peaceful, working on things that interest him, and not having to worry about deadlifts, mile times, and getting shot.

He wants to be a civilian and the Horde doesn’t believe in those.

Sighing, Kyle starts to dissemble his decoder. The radio he could put in a few places without raising suspicion, but the decoder, with its custom software and specs, would raise a few eyes. He could have thrown it into a lava flow and watch the parts melt, but old habits die hard he supposes. The Horde is not resource rich. Everything gets recycled, even electrical wires.

Finished, the reality of his upcoming escape starts to creep into Kyle’s mind. He knew it was happening, he and Bow sent numerous messages back and forth, but now there is nothing left to do but grab his pack and wait. Sadly he can’t do that for another four hours.

He's eager to leave. He wants to leave the Horde behind. See Bow. Adora too. There’s nothing here for him anymore.

Well he will miss Rogelio, had missed him these past few months, and he wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye. He might miss Catra, she’d never been very nice to him but she had been squad. And Lonnie, Lonnie had done everything she could for Kyle. He’d miss her a lot. And, he winces, she might not take his sudden disappearance well.

Kyle’s thumb brushed over one of the buttons from the decoder. Small, it could easily fit into a pocket or be sown into a hem. He couldn’t know what Lonnie would think – did he leave like Adora? Had Catra got rid of him like Shadow Weaver did failures? - but he wants her to remember him. Catra can’t erase memories, but they can fade. And maybe Lonnie would see a token as a sign of him leaving on his own terms.

He takes a dremel to two buttons, one for Lonnie and one for Rogelio, and makes a very prominent “K” in the metal. Lonnie could do what she wanted with them, but he hoped she’d keep one and give the other to their remaining squadmate.

For one reason or another their squad, the only family Kyle had ever known, has been pulled apart. But Kyle doesn’t want the rest of them to hate him, as Lonnie does Adora. He also doesn’t want to be forgotten, like Tim, whoever he had been. If a simple piece of metal with his initial on it could make his brother and sister think of him from time to time, well, that is all he can ask.

If he had more buttons, more scrapes of metal, he’d make a collection so they could each have four carved initials and carry them close. Two “K”s will have to do.

Kyle makes sure Lonnie isn’t in the dorm room when he leaves behind his gifts. She’d ask questions or drag him to the gym, both risks to his plan to leave.

Kyle hopes she survives the war, Lonnie and Rogelio both, even if the closeness they shared during their young cadet days fades away, even if they hate or mourn him. He wishes everyone could live and be remembered.

But when you grow up a war orphan, you know wishes don’t come true.

* * *

Adora parks the skiff at the tattered edge of the Whispering Woods. They are still miles from Horde Command, but before them stretch open land Bow knew would be treacherous to cross even on a dark moon night. 

Bow bites his thumbnail, nervous about their plan to get Kyle. Ideally, Glimmer would just teleport in and out, but that distance with a passenger would be difficult even if she knew exactly where to appear. They have to get her closer, which means either walking across the wastes or flying above the clouds. Swift Wind offered the ride, but since he could only carry three they have to leave someone behind to make room for Kyle.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be going?” Bow asks for the fourth time.

Adora huffs but explains it again gently. “This is an in and out mission. You and Glimmer ride Swift Wind close enough to see Kyle. Glimmer teleports down, grabs him, and teleports up. If they need is cover, and you can provide that better than me with your bow. If I went, Swifty would have to land before I can attack and that will draw attention.”

“But you’re our best fighter. And Kyle knows you.”

Glimmer places a warm hand on Bow’s forearm. “Kyle knows you too, Bow. You’ve been talking for months. He’s coming _because_ of you.”

Bow can’t help the blush that rises up.

“This isn’t a fighting mission,” Adora says. “It’s a retrieval. Shera isn’t the best suited for that. She draws attention.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“We can do this, Bow. We did tons of missions together before we met Adora.”

Bow smiles at Glimmer. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.” He climbs up on Swift Wind’s back and helps Glimmer up in front of him.

“Hold tight,” the uniasus says. He takes off at a gallop then leaps into the air.

Bow squeals and squeezes Glimmer. He’s ridden on Swift Wind before, but take-offs always send his stomach into his throat.

While the wind makes him shiver, the sun shines on both of them. It was Adora’s idea, but Bow agreed, that they should fly in from the west. Anyone looking at the sunset would be too busy squinting to see Swift Wind’s white coat and colorful wings or the sparkle of Glimmer’s magic. They’d have to be more careful on the return, but if they fly high enough Bow hopes they will be safe. At the very least, the mental link Swift Wind and Adora have been developing would let Adora know they need backup.

“Excited to meet your friend?” Glimmer asks.

“Kyle’s not-” Bow cuts himself off. He doesn’t consider him and Kyle friends, not like his relationship with Glimmer or Adora. They don’t share goals or morals. And the bit of history they share? Not so pleasant.

He doesn’t know Kyle’s opinions on their first string of interactions – did he regret being involved in Bow’s kidnapping? - but sometimes he regrets his own first interaction with Kyle. Especially after the messages they passed back and forth. Kyle had been so desperate for a friendly face and Bow had given it to him for information and to keep him distracted. He’d willingly taken advantage of the other guy.

Even now, after having offered an escape to Kyle and in the midst of a rescue mission, Bow couldn’t pin down his motivations. Yes, he wants to save Kyle from the mysterious fate of those who failed. And yes, he still thinks Kyle would be an amazing maker partner but were those thoughts really driving this mission? Or is it, in a way, saving Adora again? Making amends for not realizing how trapped Horde soldiers are in their life and doing something he can look at later and say, _see I’m a good guy. The Resistance is the good guys. I can show my fathers I’m on the right path._

Bow enjoys talking to Kyle, he really does, but had his initial motivations been replaced by something more altruistic, or is he just telling himself that?

“We’re just pen pals, Glimmer.”

“You don’t go rescuing a pen pal from an enemy war camp.”

“We help strangers all the time.”

“They’re civilians. Kyle’s not, even if he hasn’t passed training yet.”

“Do you realize how much you smile when you say you talked to Kyle?” Glimmer turns as much as she can to look at Bow. “If you’re not friends now, you will be soon. I haven’t seen you in so much awe about someone’s work since... since Entrapta’s.”

“Well, Kyle’s got some incredible ideas. He’s the one who figured out how to use the radio waves-”

“See?” Glimmer smiles at him. “You are friends.”

Bow gives her a weak smile in return.

“You’re not allowed to turn him into your best friend though.”

“Of course not.”

All Kyle had wanted from Bow was friendship and from his point of view, that’s what he got. Moving forward, Bow vows to be a good friend to Kyle, regardless as to how their relationship started.

“We’re here,” Swift Wind says.

Bow and Glimmer look down. They aren’t directly over the Horde compound, but they were within a comfortable distance for Glimmer to teleport. Just beyond the gate is a tall piece of machinery, on top of which lay a long, white object. Kyle in his training uniform, pressed along the room of the tower to avoid being seen. At least, Bow thinks it’s Kyle. He hopes it’s Kyle.

“Back in a flash!” Glimmer disappears from within Bow’s arms to rematerialize a mile and a half down, next to the white form on the tower. Bow and Swift Wind watch from the air for a minute before they notice the purple sparkle of Glimmer’s magic activate.

Glimmer reappears ten feet above them and a little to the left. Bow gets a brief look at Kyle, pale with terror and clinging to Glimmer like a creeper vine, before he goes into action. Swift Wind flares out his wings, Bow scoots down the uniasus’s back and puts out his arms, and Glimmer falls sideways onto Swift Wind’s back.

“Off,” the steed says, dipping in the air. Bow scrambles to grab hold of the back of Glimmer’s cape and get purchase on Kyle’s skinny arm. Once he is sure neither of them are going to fall off, he helps balance them as they sit up and arrange themselves to sit properly on Swift Wind’s back.

Kyle still stubbornly clings to Glimmer, sitting backward on Swift Wind so that he looks over Glimmer’s shoulder at Bow. The other guy blinks twice at Bow, scans him head to waist, and then smiles. “Bow!”

Bow feels his cheeks heat. Kyle looks so happy to see him, despite how desperately his hands are gripping Glimmer’s back.

“Hey, Kyle.”

“How are you?”

“Good, you?”

Kyle gazes down. They are flying up and away now, the Horde compound shrinking in the distance. Then Kyle looks up, to the stars starting to appear in the sky, and turns his neck to see the Whispering Woods growing closer. Bow watches him take a deep breath before turning back around to look at Bow.

“I think I’ll be good.”

* * *

When they get back to the skiff, Bow helps Kyle dismount. His legs wobble, unused to riding horses, and his skin is cold from the wind. Once he is standing on his own feet, Kyle turns bright pink. Bow wants to ask why, but then notices Kyle’s eyes firmly on his exposed midsection.

Bow thanks his dark skin for hiding his own micro blush.

“I think this shirt is cooler than your other one,” Kyle says.

“This one is my favorite.”

Kyle nods. Then he frantically scrambles for the small bag over his shoulder. After digging around in it for a moment, he presents a flash drive to Bow.

“I know you said Bright Moon didn’t need anything from me. Proof I am actually defecting or a pledge of non-violence or anything, but I brought this.”

“What is it?” Bow asks, taking the flash drive.

“The Horde has a new engineer who spits out more plans than we can make. That’s everything they’ve thought of since joining us. I thought, I thought maybe we could build one? Together?” Kyle scratches the back of his head, face hopeful and sheepish and nervous.

“I’d like that,” Bow says.

“Kyle?”

Adora stands by the skiff, and she looks uncertain in a way Bow rarely sees but when he does it’s usually about Catra. Kyle opinions about Adora, however, are nowhere near as murky.

“Adora!” He launches himself at her, falling into her chest with wet eyes.

Bow is extremely proud of Adora to see her wrapping her arms around Kyle’s back. Most physical contact in the Horde, apparently, had been during combat training. It had taken weeks for Glimmer and Bow to give Adora a hug and not have her tense up in response. Even now, she never initiates them and rarely gives one back even if she accepts them. For her to hug Kyle, well, having him here was more important that Bow thought it was.

“I didn’t think they were that close,” Glimmer says, coming to stand next to Bow.

“Me neither,” he replies.

Yet there is Kyle, squeezing Adora’s lungs as she presses her forehead to his shoulder. He pulls Glimmer away a few steps. Not far, just enough to prevent normal speaking level eavesdropping. Glimmer huffs, but allows it. No doubt, she’ll ambush Adora about it later. Bow’s not sure he wants to be there when it happens.

It’s a long hug by Horde standards, a whole seven seconds, and they talk for a minute after. When Kyle boards the skiff with Adora’s help, Bow figures it’s safe to approach. He hears the tail end of their conversation.

“I’m glad we’re still friends,” Adora says. “I didn’t think any of the squad still liked me.”

“Well, I do,” Kyle said.

“Who needs the Horde anyway?” Glimmer interrupts, teleporting to stand next to Kyle on the skiff. She throws an arm over Kyle’s shoulders. “The Rebellion is better, you’ll see.”

“ _Bright Moon_ is better,” Bow says. “Kyle’s not joining the Rebellion.”

Glimmer flaps her hand at him. “Whatever. Thing is Kyle, you made a good choice leaving.”

“You really did,” Adora says.

Kyle looks from Adora, to Glimmer, to Bow and lingers, Kyle’s face getting redder the entire time. Bow feels himself heating up and shoves Glimmer away when she elbows him with a wagging eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Kyle says, ruffling the hair at the back of his next. “I think I did too.”

* * *

Bright Moon is the opposite of the Horde. Clean air, lots of windows, bright walls and hallways, with grounds full of civilians. Kyle has never seen so many in one place before. He’s fascinated by a group of playing children they spot as they enter the castle’s grounds.

“What’s that game?” he asks Bow.

Bow shrugs. “Don’t know if there’s an official name for it. Steal? The kid with the ball tries to keep it and everyone else wants to take it from him. You’re only allowed to use your feet.”

Kyle never played like that, not really. Horde playtime is really training time. Energetic seven-year-olds are told to run laps, hyper five-year-olds given targets and bean bags. He hoped Bow would teach him. How to play. How to be a non-combatant.

He looks toward the back of the skiff, where Adora is guiding the machine joking with Glimmer. Adora used to look that way with Catra, but there’s something else in her expression Kyle can’t identify. Whatever it is, Adora looks like she _belongs._ Bright Moon is her home and family.

Turning back to Bow, Kyle scoots a little closer. Bow lets him. He’s warm. Kind. Smart and funny.

Bright Moon, Kyle thinks, can be his home and family too.

**Author's Note:**

> *le sigh* Can you tell I started this fic as something humorous (smart kyle not realizing he's lusting after Bow's abs) and then it turned into this spiral into light Bow angst? I will never be able to write something 100% happy. It's physically impossible. Oh well.


End file.
